


I'm John Laurens in the Place to Be

by shippingParaphernalia



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feels, Hamilton can't see the greatness of Lams, Heartbreak, Heartbroken Laurens, I Hate You I love You, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Might make it longer later though, My First Hamilton Fic, Oneshot, Onesided Lams, Rejected, Sad Laurens, Song - Freeform, Songfic, Wedding, Well not exactly but ugh, drunk laurens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 10:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9380429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shippingParaphernalia/pseuds/shippingParaphernalia
Summary: 'Two pints of Sam Adams, but I'm working on three...'Or did he already pass that mark? Laurens frowned in half-hearted recollection. He could have sworn he had only started with the drinks what, a few minutes ago? But then why was the room swimming?Around him, he could hear laughter and cheers as friends and foes alike rejoiced for the newly wedded pair. He glanced at Alexander. The man's face was aglow.Laurens sighed.With a dull gesture, the glass before him was refilled.[In which Hamilton is getting married and Laurens can't help but feel heartbroken. Also, backstory on their meeting from Laurens' POV. Also, the above literally appears nowhere and I just wrote it on the spot.]Comments are better than kudos, and appreciated! <3





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first Hamilton fic! My first songfic, too.  
> Song is 'I hate you, I love you.' By Gnash, I think? Idk :/  
> Inspired by: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUMxFZST6hY  
> It's a oneshot for now, but I might extend it eventually.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> -Georgie
> 
> ***

_I hate you, I love you_

_I hate that I love you_

 

When John Laurens had first seen him, he remembered thinking that this kid was probably just one of Burr's mindless secretaries or something. Maybe an adoring fan begging to be blessed with some free advice. 

He certainly hadn't imagined him to be anything like what he now knew Alexander Hamilton to be.

Intelligent, witty, a pile of brimstone ready to flame up at any given minute. And with eyes to give stars a run for their money. John Laurens had been admittedly drunk at the time (two pints of Sam Adams were nothing to laugh at), but he remembered the warm feeling he got when Alexander had looked at him with those eyes, and that hair, and that smile.

'Laurens, I like you a lot.'

Oh, that smile.

He had those perfect lips, too. And that silly scraggly beard that made Laurens want to either sit him down at a barber's or rub his face all over it. God, Laurens wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him senseless, and then wake him back up in a shower of cold fingertips.

But he didn't. He couldn't. Alexander Hamilton's friendship with him wasn't strong enough for that yet. If Laurens came off too strong, he'd leave.

 

  _Don't want to but I can't put nobody else above you_

 

It had been bad enough going to the Winter Ball. The girls were beautiful, yes, but Laurens felt nothing seeing them flounce and flirt about. And any attraction he _did_ end up feeling was nothing compared to what he longed for in Hamilton.

He'd grabbed a mug and sat in a corner, moodily drinking his way through the night. A few stray ladies wandered over, but after a few curt 'yes's and 'no's, they got up and left again. All the better. Laurens was busy observing Hamilton anyway.

In the beginning, everything seemed to be going okay. Lafayette and Mulligan knew most of the girls in the room, and were eager to re-acquaintance themselves and Alexander. Hamilton smiled politely, tossed one of his charming phrases about, shook/kissed hands. The ladies swooned, but (much to Laurens' satisfaction) Hamilton seemed to hold no lingering interest for any of them.

Until _she_ came.

Tan-skinned, frizzy haired, finely gowned. She looked no different to Laurens than the rest of them, but then again, he hadn't really the best opinion on the subject. He suspected it had more to do with that meddler Burr. 'Score a Schuyler sister and you're gold', he'd said. And Hamilton was nothing if not ambitious.

Laurens' eyes followed in dismay as Alexander trailed her like a sunflower chasing sunlight. And then, a while later, he'd met another one of those infernal sisters (how many were there?!) and that had been that.

Alexander was smitten. 

Lovestruck.

Helpless.

And not for John.

 

_I hate you,_

_I love you_

_I hate that I want you_

 

The wedding was announced a few weeks later, while Laurens still was struggling to get over the gift to humanity known as Alexander Hamilton.

Hamilton, luckily, seemed unaware of this. If anything, he seemed to think Laurens was just as happy about this as he was, and Laurens was quick to approve this theory if it meant seeing him smile. Lafayette and Mulligan took the news with their usual grace: a toast was proposed, high-fives were exchanged. Help was offered for the wedding plans, Laurens in the lead.

He had to accept Alexander would never be his. What better way than to plan the man's wedding with another?

Too soon for his liking though, the night before had come. Lafayette, of course, insisted on a 'bachelor party', which Mulligan was quick to second. Hamilton accepted with his usual amusement. Privately though, he'd pulled Laurens away and told him, with a serious and earnest look in his eyes:

'Laurens, listen. Tomorrow means, and will mean, so much to me. You'll be there, right?'

'Of course,' Laurens had grinned. 'I practically planned the whole thing.' The joke sounded feeble in his ears, but Hamilton laughed anyway.

'I know, but that's not what I meant. I meant you'll be there for me. As my friend. My best man. To support me, you know? And drag my body through the aisle if I faint. Lafayette and Mulligan are great, but you mean the world to me. Will you be there?'

And Laurens, with a blush he hoped his freckles had covered, had promised he would.

That night, he made an extra effort to hide his hurt. He drank so much that it felt like the world was spinning, and he even sang an off-key duet with the others about the wedding.

 Aaron Burr had dropped in at some point too, but Laurens had been so tipsy by then that he'd barely registered what the man had said. He vaguely remembered draping himself over Burr's shoulder and slurring something about his special someone at him. 

Hamilton had kicked him and the others out then. What an ungrateful jerk, keeping all the gossip to himself. Didn't he appreciate all Laurens had done for him? But it was okay, because there were always more drinks to be passed around, and any lingering feeling of heartache was immediately tended to.

Laurens fell asleep at around 1 am in Lafayette's arms. The Frenchman gave him to Alexander (thanks, pal) and if Hamilton was annoyed to having to give refuge to a wasted friend for the night, he didn't show it. Laurens only woke up once, briefly, to see Alexander staring at him with a sort of sad smile on his face. Then the sweet darkness of dreams overwhelmed him once more.

The next day was the wedding.

 

_You want her,_

_You need her,_

_And I'll never be her..._

 

Maybe it was a good thing the two of them hadn't gotten together.

Alexander was full of passion and fire. He needed someone calm to temper that, someone caring and kind, not a hopeless, lovesick alcoholic with a face that looked like someone had thrown drops of wet paint at it.

And even if they did get together, then what? They couldn't get married. Couldn't go out in public. Laurens' father would be disgusted, dismayed. And --worst of all-- he could never hope to make Hamilton beam the way he was beaming now.

Laurens had no ill will held against Eliza Schuyler, but in that moment, seeing the radiance the two of them shared with each other, the pure love that passed between them, he hated her. And he hated himself. And to make up for it ( _it_ being his uncooperative heart and bitter soul) he made sure to give it his all and smile. And smile. And smile. So what if it was a tad fixed? Alexander definitely wouldn't be able to tell the difference from that far, in the rare chance he even met Laurens' gaze for a second.

All too soon, the kiss had been commenced (Laurens' grin dropping a bit) and the bouquet had been thrown into the crowd. And, of course, the one who caught it ended up being the one with no want for it.

"Nice catch, man," Mulligan laughed, slapping Laurens on the back. 

"You know what this means, oui?" Lafayette pinched his cheek in delight. Laurens made a face and took a step back. "You are the next to marry!"

Laurens had no idea when Hamilton had materialized next to them (usually, his presence was evident from miles away), but it was he who was the next to speak: "Yeah, that's right! Don't worry, Laurens, we'll find you the best partner ever. You'll definitely deserve them. Without you, I couldn't have done half of all this!"

Laurens nodded. And smiled. And thought, once again, how perfect Hamilton looked in his suit, with his hair all groomed and his stubble newly trimmed (so precious). It would be so easy to lean over and kiss him. Just a peck, nothing serious. He could claim to still be drunk. Alexander would forgive him. Of course he would. Alexander had said that he, John Laurens, meant the world to him. That had to count for something, right?

What if Laurens still had a shot? What if he tried to use it right now?

He slowly leaned forwards, slowly let his eyes droop and--

_No._

No.

He couldn't.

He didn't have the right shot for this anymore. He'd lost it long ago, when Eliza Schuyler had entered the game. She'd taken his gun. She'd emptied his bullets. And now, she was the one who got to keep the prize.

Laurens handed the bouquet to Lafayette,

Reached over,

Placed a hand on Hamilton's shoulder,

And winked.

"Head back over," he said. "Your wife'll want you for the dance."

 


End file.
